I was a tycoon in World War I: Starting to save France

The afternoon in Paris is gray, although the sun may be shining elsewhere.

Gallieni was lying alone on the bed in the headquarters lounge, looking at the haze outside the window, complaining self-deprecatingly: "It's unbelievable, why do Germans like this city? What's so good about it?"

Before he finished speaking, he frowned at the dull pain coming from his abdomen.

It was an old wound left in the Franco-German war. Gallieni vaguely remembered that he was just a second lieutenant at the time, leading a team of more than 200 people and fighting the Prussians with a Chacebo rifle.

He was so focused on aiming his gun at a Prussian colonel that he didn't realize he was also in someone else's crosshairs.

Almost at the same time that Gallieni fired the rifle and knocked down the target, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, and then his whole body lost its support and collapsed on the ground, unable to stand up again.

Gallieni became a prisoner of the Prussians. He thought he would spend the rest of his days in the prison camp with pain, because the Prussians would not waste precious medicine on prisoners.

But fate is so magical. France surrendered soon after, and the Prussians released the prisoners according to the agreement. Gallieni was one of them. He miraculously survived and grew into a Frenchman in the following decades. Lieutenant General.

Gallieni sat up from the bed with difficulty, clutching his abdomen, and murmured to himself: "I should be glad that the Germans used paper shell fixed-loading ammunition at that time, otherwise, France would have one less general!"

There was a gentle knock on the door outside. Gallieni put down his hand and straightened up. He didn't want his subordinates to see his weak look: "Come in!"

The staff officer pushed open the door and entered, and Gallieni knew it was good news when he saw the look on his face.

"What? Are we moving one step further?" Gallieni's tone was full of sarcasm.

Moving forward with blood and lives is not something to be proud of. Gallieni even worried that the Germans were retreating in order to advance and thus consume the effective strength of the French army.

However, all the officers in the headquarters were enjoying it, and newspapers continued to report and even exaggerate the news of the victory.

"No, General!" The staff officer excitedly handed the document to Gallieni: "It's the 3rd Infantry Battalion of the 5th Army, the unit that drove tanks to drive away the Germans. They won another great victory! "

Gallieni said "Oh", he calmly took the document, took the glasses from the bedside and put them on, and asked expressionlessly: "Did they drive the tank up again? How come I heard that the tank is still talking about it?" The purchase price…”

"No, General!" the staff officer replied: "It's not a tank, it's a modified motorcycle!"

"Motorcycle?" Gallieni looked suspiciously at the document in his hand, which recorded the results reported by the 5th Army.

"It is estimated that more than 4,000 enemies were killed and wounded, and more than 40 artillery pieces were blown up. Our army only lost 23 people..."

Gallieni whispered, his voice gradually rising into a questioning tone.

There was a trace of ridicule on the corner of his mouth, and he turned to look at the staff officer, with anger in his eyes: "Do you think I look like a fool, Alex?"

The staff officer was stunned: "No, of course not, General..."

"If not, why are you mocking me with such a battle report?" Gallieni threw the document on the table and said coldly: "Have we reached the point where we have to numb ourselves by falsely reporting battle achievements?"

"General..."

"Do you know how much negative impact this will have?" Gallieni became more and more angry as he spoke. He slowly stood up and glared: "This is a shameful deception, and other troops will follow suit, Alex! At that time, everyone will be satisfied with this false military exploits and do nothing! This will eventually lead to our collapse, and no amount of troops will help!"

"General..."

"And you, you have lost the most basic judgment, and you still sent this kind of battle report in front of me! You have encouraged this trend! This kind of behavior is no different from false reporting of military exploits! You are sinners and accomplices!"

Gallieni turned pale with anger. He had made up his mind to dig out all the people on this line and kick them out of the army.

Only in this way can the French army achieve victory, real victory!

"It's true, General!" the staff shouted anxiously: "They are using a tricycle invented by Charles, a kind of combat motorcycle, so they can achieve such results like a tank with more than two hundred people!"

Gallieni was stunned, and after a while he asked doubtfully: "Combat motorcycle? What is that?"

"I...I'm not sure!" This question stumped the staff officer: "They said it was a three-wheeled motorcycle with a Maxim machine gun on the sidecar so it could fight on the move! We couldn't believe it either. The result is the same, but we have confirmed it several times and the result is the same!”

Gallieni still couldn't believe it. After being silent for a while, he seemed to remember something: "Are you talking about Charles, the boy who invented the tank?"

"Yes, that's him!" The staff officer suspected that it was Charles who really shocked Gallieni.

If Charles could invent a tank that allowed three hundred people to change their lives and win a battle that should have been lost, then he might be able to invent another piece of equipment that allowed two hundred people to inflict heavy casualties!

"General!" At this time, another staff officer pushed the door in. He stood at the door and reported: "The Germans retreated. Our army advanced 7 kilometers and found a large number of artillery wreckage and corpses on the way. The Germans did not even have time to remove them. Take the body away!"

This confirmed from the side that the results of the 3rd Infantry Battalion were real, and the artillery wreckage and corpses were ironclad evidence.

Gallieni's eyes lit up instantly, his anger had long disappeared, replaced by ecstasy, which almost meant that the German attack had completely failed and there would be no counterattack.

He sat down at the table again and picked up the document, his fingers trembling with excitement and shaking with the document.

After looking at it for a while, Gallieni ordered: "Alex, I need to know the whole process, the more detailed the better!"

"Yes, General!"

Just as the staff officer was about to go out, Gallieni added another order: "Call Laurent!"

"Yes, General!"

Laurent was Gallieni's guard.

Perhaps the word "guard" is not appropriate. Laurent is one of the few confidants of Gallieni who can be trusted without reservation. After all, when Gallieni retired, Laurent had always been by his side to voluntarily protect Gallieni's safety.

At that time, no one could have thought that the Germans would come and Gallieni would be reused again.

This means Laurent has given up almost everything, including fame, military rank, high salary...

Not long after, Laurent knocked on the door and came in.

"Sir, what do you want?" Laurent asked softly.

Privately, Gallieni prefers Laurent to call him "Sir".

Galieni nodded at the wooden door, Laurent turned around and closed the door, then walked closer to Gallieni.

Galieni lowered his voice and said, "I want to see someone, but no one else can know. Please arrange it!"

"Yes, sir!"

Laurent was puzzled when he responded. With Gallieni's current status, it was just a matter of a word to want to see someone.

Why is he so mysterious?

Why can't others know?